


I could fight this till the end (but maybe I don't wanna win).

by Heyashes



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Confused Stiles, Guilt, I seriously need to find myself a beta, M/M, Mild Smut, Songfic, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 08:03:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2143299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heyashes/pseuds/Heyashes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And it suddenly hits him: Stiles’ afraid. He’s terrified of giving himself completely to someone like he’s doing right now with Stuart. Because it has always been them from the very beginning: Stiles and Stuart. Stuart and Stiles. Not many people were allowed into their bubble, and it hits him: he’s so used to have Stuart with him, that he can’t picture himself doing much of anything without his twin by his side.</p><p>Or: Stiles feels incredibly guilty about having sex with his twin brother but has sex with his twin brother anyway because of reasons. On the other hand, Stuart is incredibly cool about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I could fight this till the end (but maybe I don't wanna win).

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My Anchor](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+Anchor).



> SO. I kinda have a knack for twincest and so does my lovely anchor Sacha, to whom I dedicate this... thing.  
> It's basically nonsense, I've written it in 40 minutes flat and I don't have a beta reader so it's probably going to be shit but hey, I tried.
> 
> The title is from Familiar Taste of Poison by Halestorm, which I recommend you listen to before/while reading because this song is also what brought me to write this OS. Feedback is highly appreciated! Hope you enjoy.

 

It is wrong.

 

Oh, so wrong.

Stiles knows that what he’s  doing is wrong  while he lets his brother kiss his way down his neck.

His _twin brother_.

 

Stiles knew that what they were doing was wrong from the very first time. Because there had been other times. Of course there had been. Many, many times.

They’d been doing this so many times Stiles can’t even remember when it had started.

It feels good, of course it does. Sex always feels good. But it also feels forbidden… filthy.

Stiles feels filthy. He feels filthy before, during and after the orgasm that always washes over him and Stuart in the exact same moment.

Because apparently being identical twins means even reaching climax in the same time.

 

He closes his eyes, listening to his twin’s breaths, getting heavy by the minute, as he slowly rolls his hips down meeting his crotch and sending sparkles of pleasure down his spine. He listens to him murmur nonsenses to his ear in a soft voice, the same he used when they were little and Stiles scratched up his knee falling from the bike.

“You think too much, little brother,” Stuart’s words rings in his ears, making him feel dizzy.

“Relax for me, yeah? Breathe,” His twin instructs stroking the pale skin of his bony hips. “I could never hurt you, Stiles. I love you.” He continues leaning in and pressing a kiss to Stiles’ lips.

 

_Brother._

 

Stiles returns the kiss as he inhales sharply, clinging to Stuart’s shoulders for dear life as guilt pools in the pitch of his stomach: who’s he to deny this to his brother? Stuart loves him. Stuart loves him, knows him, understands him more than anyone will ever be able to.

So Stiles kisses back. Desperately, angrily. He kisses back and bites Stuart’s bottom lip hard, as to punish him for making him like this. For making him taste sour, burning poison on the tip of his tongue every morning, when he looks at him from the other end of the breakfast table with a knowing smirk on his lips while their father sits right next to him sipping coffee and reading the newspaper completely oblivious, for making him feel his stomach churn in terror whenever someone stares at his neck for too long, making him fear that one of the love bites Stuart loves to suck on his skin is showing, for making him unable to look at their mother’s pictures without thinking that, if she wasn’t already dead, she would die knowing what her sons were doing.

Stuart chuckles at that, digging his nails in the soft skin of Stiles’ sides as a retaliation.

“You can keep to fight this till the end of time, Stiles,” He whispers against Stiles’ lips, warm whiskey colored eyes looking straight into identical ones. “I know you don’t really wanna win.”

And Stiles knows Stuart’s right: he doesn’t want to win. He wouldn’t have let his twin brother crawl under his skin like that if he really wanted to.

“Shut up,” Stiles hisses. “Just shut up. And let’s get this over and done with.”

He watches Stuart pull back and kick his striped boxers off. He wonders if that’s what he looks like as well when he’s aching hard, with sex hair and blown pupils.

He figures that he probably does and a sharp pang of guilt hits him when he feels his own cock twitch at the sight: how sick is it to be attracted to someone who looks exactly like you?

Tho Stiles has always thought about Stuart and him as two different and separate people, he can’t deny there’s something sick to it.

 

He lets Stuart tug his boxers off and toss them away as well, lets him take the sight of him laying in the middle of his twin’s bed in all his naked glory. He watches him reach for a packet of lube in his nightstand drawer, lets him stroke him lazily with his free hand as he slicks himself up with the milky light of the moon creeping through the curtains draws shadows on his pale skin as muscles flex under it.

He keeps looking him in the eyes, still hidden behind his glasses, as he slowly thrusts a finger inside him to the knuckle.

He’ll never get used to this. He feels air being knocked out of his lungs as he lets out a soft whimper and tries to adjust to the burning sensation.

“Alright?” Stuart asks, soft and caring as he runs his palm up and down Stiles’ chest in an affectionate gesture.

Stiles nods and bites his bottom lip, thinking about how vulnerable he’d feel right now if it was someone else fucking him open with their fingers instead of his brother.

And it suddenly hits him: Stiles’ afraid. He’s terrified of giving himself completely to someone like he’s doing right now with Stuart. Because it has always been them from the very beginning: Stiles and Stuart. Stuart and Stiles. Not many people were allowed into their bubble, and it hits him: he’s so used to have Stuart with him, that he can’t picture himself doing much of anything without his twin by his side.

He closes his eyes, overwhelmed, and lets out a shaky breath.

“Come here,” He croaks.

Stuart immediately obeys, leaning in so that Stiles can wrap his arms around his torso while he’s still slowly stretching him open after adding a second finger.

Stiles presses his face against his twin’s neck and breathes him in, lets Stuart’s scent get under his skin, bathing himself into the familiar smell of hair product, chapstick and boy. He digs his fingers into Stuart’s soft hair and holds him tighter, pressing their identical chests flush together. He feels his twin smile against his ear and kiss his head.

 

“Ready?” Stuart asks, and god knows how much has passed, how long they’ve stayed like that.

Stiles nods, pulling back a bit and resting his forehead against his twin’s.

“This is the last time we’re doing this, Stu,” He says, and he doesn’t believe his own words either.

He sees Stuart bite back a smirk. “Yeah, Stiles. The very last time.” He nods, amusement thick in his voice before he leans in to press a kiss to Stiles’ lips.

Then Stuart slowly thrusts inside him until he bottoms out and Stiles keeps seeing white sparkles even after he’s closed his eyes. He feels his twin stroke his sides and chest, gently kiss his lips, cheeks and neck as he waits for him to give him a sign.

Stuart’s never been a patient one, never in their life, but when it  comes to Stiles he always acts like all of a sudden he has all the time in the world. Which was something Stiles highly appreciates: no one ever acts like that around him.

 

Stiles takes a deep breath and gives his brother a quick nod, crossing his ankles against Stuart’s ass to give him a better angle.

If they’re going to do this, might as well try to get the best from it, right?

When Stuart pulls back and thrusts back in, Stiles’ glad their father’s having the night shift, because he’s completely unable to stifle back a groan. Stuart chuckles, peppering kisses all over his face and neck while he struggles to catch his breath.

“Don’t laugh, you asshole,” Stiles mutters, but finds himself laughing, too.

Stuart answers by thrusting harder inside him and muffling a shaky laugh against Stiles’ neck and Stiles wants to roll his eyes. Because that’s how things work behind them: everything’s so easy, so light. Even incestuous sex, which definitely isn’t something to laugh about. But when Stuart hits that exact spot inside Stiles, laughing isn’t something Stiles feels like doing anymore. He whimpers, digging his nails in his brother’s shoulder blades and earns the filthiest moan, right against his ear.

It’s during moments like this that Stiles paranoid self starts to worry even about the neighbours, because with Stuart thrusting frantically inside him, causing both of them to not be able to control the moans escaping their lips, even the slightly cracked window gives him the creeps.

Stuart doesn’t seem to mind, tho, as he wraps his fingers around Stiles’ cock and jerks him in time with his thrusts.

 

Stiles doesn’t think it’s normal, the way it takes him so short to feel the familiar heat pool in the pitch of his stomach when it’s his brother touching him, but he finds himself arching under Stuart’s body in matter of minutes.

“Stu,” He cries out, scratching down his brother’s back in a way he knew will leave marks the morning after.

“I know,” Stuart replies quickly, and Stiles can feel in his voice that he’s close, too. “Let it go, Stiles,” He says softly, and it’s all it takes to send Stiles over the edge just as he feels his twin spill his load inside him.

Stiles certainly doesn’t miss the broken ‘I love you’ coming out from his brother’s lips as he comes.

He pulls Stuart down, smashing his lips against his but kissing him sweetly.

“I love you.” He whispers back, cupping his twin’s cheek and running his thumb on his cheekbone.

He rolls to his side the very moment Stuart pulls out of him, and lets him curl around his body and throw an arm around his waist.

 

Stiles closes his eyes and prays to fall asleep soon, ignoring the familiar taste of poison tingling on his lips.


End file.
